A Guilty Rendezvous
by xCaligula
Summary: Eddie is captured by the Twilight Lady. She teases and tortures and beats him, but it's what she says that really hurts.


**A/N: Written for the Watchmen kink meme, because I am always a slut for Edward Morgan Blake. There won't be a whole lot of physical domination (and most of it centers around her just hitting him a lot), because I wanted to focus more on the verbal abuse.**

 **Prompt: TL captures and doms Eddie, and she fucking WRECKS him. I want to see him crack and break down into tears because of the things she says to him.**

When Eddie finally came to, he was in an unfamiliar, dark room, and his hands and feet were bound to something. And he was cold. Incredibly cold. So cold, in fact, that he had to be...one glance down confirmed his suspicions.

He was stark naked, and, if he wasn't mistaken, he was bound to one of those X-style crosses, the ones people used for bondage. He couldn't quite remember what they were called, but that knowledge wouldn't do him much good now anyway, so he didn't try too hard to remember. At least he was still wearing his mask.

His head cleared a bit more, but he was still unable to recall the situation that had lead to him being knocked unconscious. It was rare that anyone bested him, and even more rare that anyone could successfully sneak up on him, but he could not remember fighting anyone, so that had to be the case. He had been out on patrol, and then he had been out cold, and now he was here. Wherever the hell "here" was.

"Well, well, looks like you finally work up," a low, feminine voice purred. "I was starting to get bored, and was considering having my fun while you were still out. But that's wouldn't be nearly as good as what I have planned."

A dull light flipped on, turning the room a dark, glowing gold. It was still hard to see, but Eddie could make out the Twilight Lady, a confident smirk on her face. Of course, he had begun to suspect her already; who else would tie a guy up like this and strip him down, but leave his mask on?

"Now that you're awake, we're really going to have some fun," she continued, closing the distance between the two of them and running a hand down his bare chest.

"Heh. If ya wanted me so bad, all ya had to do was ask," he said, cocky as ever, even in a situation that was so clearly weighed against him.

"But there isn't any fun in asking," she replied. "Wouldn't you agree?" She gave him a knowing smile that unnerved him for reasons he couldn't quite explain.

He pushed that concern out of his mind, and leered at her. "C'mon, why doncha let me down from here and lemme show ya a real good time?"

"Now, why would I do something like that?" She trailed her hand down his chest and stomach, caressing the taut muscles before moving down further. Despite the potential danger of the situation, and the unnerving comment she had made, he was still starting to get hard. She felt him twitch as her hand moved over his cock.

"I know you were just dying for a woman like me to do something to you, wearing a mask like that. You try to act so tough, but you make it so obvious that you're secretly submissive and need a woman to control you!" She used her free hand to prod at his cheek, her touch barely felt through the leather.

"No, see, ya got me wrong on that," he said. "Like ya said, I act tough. Wearin' a mask like this is just another joke, lookin' like I wanna take a beating, when I'm really the one givin' 'em out!" That was all bullshit, but he couldn't admit the mask was there to cover up his scar. Everyone who knew him knew that a scar like that was recognizable and he had to cover his entire face; he didn't tell people he was too damn vain and didn't like people looking at it.

"Don't lie to me," she chided, giving his face a playful slap. "It's just the two of us here, you don't have to be ashamed of anything. Let me take care of your darkest desires."

"Honey, you don't want to know my darkest desires," he retorted, though keeping his cool was starting to get harder- just as he was. She had wrapped her hand around his cock and begun to stroke it, slow and torturous. He didn't want to get into this, but damn if it wasn't all bad.

"Poor little Comedian," she cooed. "Why won't you just admit you want this? I know you do, and you know you do." She dropped down, trailing her tongue over his throbbing member. He hissed at the sudden contact, and she pulled back, laughing before standing back up.

"None of that just yet," she said. "You have to earn it. You have to beg and plead before I'll give you anything, you know."

"I don't beg, lady," he snapped, but he was writhing as much as he could in his restraints, the desire for further contact driving him wild. It wasn't as if he hadn't been with anyone recently; there was no shortage of women that found him attractive, even with his ugly, ugly scar. He simply wasn't used to not getting what he wanted, when he wanted it.

"Oh, you're going to beg, alright. I'm going to break you, and you're going to be doing a lot more than just begging, sweetheart."

Before he could formulate a good retort, she had let go of his cock, pulling back her hand and delivering a hard slap to his face. Even with the mask in place, it still stung, and he let out a low a growl. She came around from the other side, this time backhanding him so hard his head snapped to the side. Damn, this woman really knew how to hit! He supposed that should have been a given.

She slapped him a few more times, harder and harder until he groaned from the pain. "I can see that you're still hard down there, don't try to pretend you're not enjoying this. Who would have guessed the Comedian was such a masochist?" Her laugh was spiteful, and she brought her face up to his neck, nibbling at it.

The pressure he felt between his legs was too much, and he didn't know why her slapping him didn't decrease it at all. The way she bit his neck certainly only made it worse, and he was surprised to hear himself whimper. Eddie Blake didn't _whimper_. What the hell was she doing to him?  
Suddenly, she bit down hard on his neck and he twisted, not sure whether it hurt or felt good, and wondered why such a mix even existed. She ran her tongue down his neck, chest, stomach, and he panted, longing for what he hoped came next, but again, she only gave his cock one teasing lick before she stood back up.

"Are you ready to beg for it yet?" she asked.

"Hell no. I told ya, I don't beg."

"Well, sometimes people have to do things they claim they don't want to, don't they? Especially when the person giving it to them knows that they really want, right?" Again, there was that unnerving smile. What was she getting at? He couldn't focus on much more than his burning arousal, but there was definitely some sort of meaning behind her words.

He saw her draw back a fist this time, and he braced himself for the impact, but it still hurt like hell. Still, it did not quell his arousal. Next, she hit him with a punch to the stomach, and he felt bile rise in his throat that burned as he swallowed it back, and still he was sporting that goddamn erection. She beat him mercilessly, and he didn't enjoy it, but he really fucking enjoyed it and he hated that.

"You've got such a reputation," she said, out of nowhere. "Everyone knows about the way you are with women, you know? I'm surprised I was the first one to figure out that meant you really wanted one to come and take your control away. Don't worry, little Comedian, I know what boys like you need."

She was talking nonsense, he knew it, but why could he not shake the feeling that it really wasn't nonsense? A sinking suspicion had begun to grow in the back of his mind, and her words started to gain clarity. That clarity faded when he heard the snap of leather against skin.

At some point in time, while he had been trying to make sense of her words, she had picked up a riding crop and now stood in front of him, snapping it against her open palm, looking every inch the cliché dominatrix. Eddie had never liked the idea of being dominated by a woman and now he was desperate for it. Anything to relieve that agonizing pressure!

The first slap of the crop against his chest managed to elicit a lewd moan that he had not realized he had been holding back. The sting of the leather felt awful and wonderful and he wanted more and he wanted her to stop, and _why would she not just finish him off already_?

He grit his teeth, enduring blow after blow from the woman, his cock so completely hard that he wondered if he could take much more torment. He didn't want this, he had never wanted this, but, damn, did he ever need it.

"Please," he finally said, quietly, pathetically.

"What was that?" she asked. "Did you finally admit to wanting it?" She placed the riding crop on the ground, and the haze of arousal that had clouded his judgment faded just a bit.

"Fuck no, I wouldn't-" He snarled. "I don't. I don't fucking want this."

"Oh, but you do. At least, I'm convinced you do," she said, "and that's all that matters, isn't it? If you can convince yourself someone wants something, it doesn't matter how much they insist they don't."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" he asked. He knew. "I think I've made it pretty damn clear that I don't..." He trailed off.

"So did Miss Jupiter, I'm sure, but that didn't stop you, did it?" His mouth opened, but he made no protest. He couldn't if he tried. "I'm just doing to you what you tried to do to her. I'm just giving you what you deserve."

"Sh-shut up, I didn't- she was- I was just-"

"You attacked her and you attempted to rape her. Everybody knows about it, but there's something I don't know that I'd like to. Are you proud of what you did?" Something in her tone of voice, something in the look on her face, something in everything she had done to him tonight and everything she had said, something in how desperate he was for her despite it all- something broke him. He felt tears threaten to spill from his eyes.

"No," he said, his voice breaking. "No, I...I'm not fuckin' proud, I would never be...I would never be proud of something like that, okay? It was just one goddamn mistake! I...she just...she always acted like she liked me, an'...an' I was just a kid, and I thought she wanted me to! She...she fuckin' scolded me like the goddamn kid I was when I tried and I was just so mad because..." By now, he could not hold back his tears.

"I was mad because I didn't want her to see me like that. I...I just thought we had something, and then I figured out she was just messin' with me and I just got so goddamn mad, and I hurt her real bad, and..." He choked softly. "I loved her and she'll never believe me and I fucked everything up, and- and-"

"You're pathetic, you know that?" asked the Twilight Lady, grinning at him. "You're really, really pathetic, and you weren't even that hard to break."

"Just...shut the fuck up and get this over with, okay?" He had barely managed to stop his tears, humiliated that he had been reduced to a blubbering mess by anything this woman could say to him. "I want it, alright? I want it real bad. Please."

"Whatever you say, you pathetic whore." She dropped to her knees and she blew him, and it took him less than a minute to come. She mocked him for this before knocking him unconscious once more.

~X~

He came to sometime later, in the alley where she had first attacked him. Thankfully, she had put his clothes back on. Eddie stood up to begin his walk home, feeling a dull ache in the pit of his stomach. He felt empty.

He had not had to face his regret about what had happened with Sally in a long time, and he had never had anyone take anything from him like that before. He wanted nothing more than to forget the entire encounter, but he knew that he never would.

Worse than that, he knew there would always be a part of him that had enjoyed the evening. It was a part of him that, if he could, he would do away with, but that wasn't possible.

 **A/N: Ending wasn't completely satisfactory, but oh well. This is more angst than smut, but...I guess I just love suffering. I also love making Eddie feel like shit for fucking up, because, damn it, I ship him and Sally so damn hard and he ruined that for me. What an ass.**

 **Uh, I'm just gonna say, I don't know much about bondage/BDSM. I know, I know, how can I claim to be so kinky? Well, I'm a huge masochist, and part of my masochism involves the person being able to hurt me with their own two hands. I don't like objects getting involved, which you probably noticed in the story. I don't even really like bondage, because if I can fight back, I get hit harder. Uhhh...guess that's more than you'd like to know about me, but it's my explanation. It was necessary to use bondage here, though, since she couldn't do anything to him without restraining him.**


End file.
